


Overgrown Ruins

by Xenamorph



Series: The Roster of Monsters [1]
Category: Slavic Mythology & Folklore
Genre: Child Murder, Drowning, F/F, Gentle Kissing, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Murder, Not Really Character Death, Past Character Death, Poison, Poisoning, Russian Mythology, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenamorph/pseuds/Xenamorph
Summary: They say there was a curse surrounding old Castle Zima, they say the ruined halls were haunted by regrets of the past and the bog that had overtaken the gardens was haunted by a spectre who could never move on. But they don’t mention why.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Roster of Monsters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850728
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Overgrown Ruins

**Author's Note:**

> Or put more simply: a ghost and a water monster meet for their monthly date night.
> 
> This work was incredibly inspired by snejkha's artwork of the two! I have no interaction with snejkha other than being a fan of their work, and while my writing is inspired by this piece of artwork, it is unrelated and the characters depicted (while sharing the same sort of monster type as their artwork) are my own. https://snejkha.tumblr.com/post/612061750606561280/gf-visits-png

They say there was a curse surrounding old Castle Alexandrovna, they say the ruined halls were haunted by regrets of the past and the bog that had overtaken the gardens was haunted by a spectre who could never move on. But they don’t mention why.

They don’t mention what the regrets are or why they couldn’t move on. They barely even mention what was haunting the grounds, just brush it off with a laugh and a shudder and a “who knows, who cares” in hopes that you won’t ask again. The only way to really find out is to visit the crumbling castle yourself.

Just don’t do it on the night of a New Moon.

* * *

The moon was gone for tonight, leaving Anastasia Alexandrovna and the stars as the only light source. It had been a while since the halls of her ancestral home had been filled with warmth and light and fire, it had been a while since she had been filled with warmth and fire as well.

“Радость моя, Радость моя.” A crooning voice called from the nearby marsh, and Anastasia couldn’t stop a light laugh from leaving her lips. Zhanna broke water tension, long red hair clinging to her shoulders as she pushed herself up on the rock, “Too long.”

Anastasia beamed, moonlight shining through her form speckling the rock as it refracted, “It’s always too long, even when it’s been merely days.” Though she was technically immaterial, she could still at least sit. The rocks had always been there, even before Anastasia’s unfortunate death, and they remained there for her.

“It’s been too long since it was only merely days between our visits, Zhanna,” Anastasia tugged slightly at the sewn tight sleeves of her gown, “But let us not talk about past things tonight, we have time for us.” The veil attached to her headpiece glimmered as she leaned over the water, shifting over her shoulders as the edge dragged along the water.

The ripples were interrupted as Zhanna pushed herself further towards the bank until she was resting on the same rock as her lover, “Have you had any visitors?”

“You mean any visitors that you haven’t chased away?” Her voice was teasing as her hand carded through Zhanna’s hair, being just barely able to part the strands around her hand, “You’re so protective, my joy.”

“Don’t you remember, my bird? All of the looters and the pillagers and the-” Zhanna’s voice slowly devolved into hissing as her hair began to float up and around her.

“Yes, darling, I remember. It was horrible, and I very well could have been connected to one of them and taken away from you. But I am tied to the grounds, and at least I have you to keep my company.”

She raised her clawed hand, settling it on Anastasia’s knee and showing off the heavy ring there. It almost looked out of place on the rusalka, heavy and jeweled and bulky. A relic of another life, another person in it’s entirely. “The grounds, of course.”

A little huff of breath left the dead princess’s mouth, coming out as a puff of smoke. “You are impossible, love.”

“Aye, that I may be, but you’re the one who is stuck with me.” Zhanna’s muscles tensed as she pushed herself to press a kiss against her cheek, “You are infinitely important to me, and you know that don’t you darling?”

“I know, darling I know. You don’t have to come to me, you don’t have to stay, you could toss that ring into the waters and leave me. But you haven’t.” Anastasia’s hand moved to gently cup her face, thumb resting on her scaled cheekbone, “You haven’t.”

“And I won’t.” Zhanna’s hand raised to hold her hand there, smiling slightly as she turned her head to press a kiss against her palm, “You are far too important to me to just leave behind and toss away.” Her gaze dropping down to the ring and her other hand moved to flick open the bevel.

Anastasia averted her eyes, a slight grimace twisting her features as her brow furrowed. “Sadly my parents didn’t feel the same,” Her voice was rough and low as her spectral finger rubbed at the small divot, deep enough to hold something, and she was thrust into the past.

But really, when was she not stuck in the past?

* * *

Her death had been sudden and unavoidable, not that anyone in the palace would want to avoid it. Not after the cruel words that her and her mother had exchanged, the threats and the disavowing of the crown and the empire. There was no way her parents would let her run away, not when she knew too much and was more than willing to blabber.

So, the then Tsarina Elizabeth Pavlovich Alexandrovna, hid three pills inside of her hollowed signet ring and prayed for forgiveness. And, in a show of good faith and repairing bridges, she took a tea tray up to her Dropping the three pills into the single cup and letting them dissolve before entering, Elizabeth plastered on a smile and she settled herself down on the edge of her daughter’s bed. “Darling,” she had said, holding the tea cup towards her. “Won’t you have tea with me?” she had asked, like she wasn’t killing her only daughter.

And Anastasia, though she was mainly disillusioned with her mother as a Tsarina, trusted her mother to never harm her. She lifted the delicate china up to her lips and took a sip of it. “Are you here to apologize?”

“Oh, my tsarevna, I’m sorry for so...so many things.” Elizabeth’s lips had been turned downwards into a pout, one hand pulling the cup away from Anastasia’s shaking hands as her daughter convulsed, “This was for the good of the Empire.”

Anastasia’s chest tightened, tighter than any corset had set it, and didn’t loosen. Her eyelids fluttered, cheeks flushing a ruddy red as she twitched. 

Within the day, the tsarevna of Russia was dead and the country was in mourning. The signet ring that her mother was so very proud of (“An old heirloom,” she had told her while doing Anastasia’s hair, “Passed down from my grandmama to my mother and soon I will pass it to you”) was thrown into the lake in shame.

The country mourned, the country moved on, and soon the empire fell.

* * *

“Darling, you spaced out again.” Zhanna’s face was sad, and her hand moved to pat Anastasia’s hand.

“Ah- sorry, this is our night and I’m all in the past.” Her eyes briefly made eye contact, before darting away to look at the lake. “I’m just...I’m very glad you picked up the ring.”

“I’m glad I picked it up as well,” The grin Zhanna gave her was fanged and toothy and so very affectionate. “But come now, we have one night a month. Let’s not spend it all on the past.” Zhanna’s gills fluttered as she pushed herself up on the rock next to Anastasia’s, “Come now, Anya, look at me.”

Anastasia turned her head, lips slightly parted to reply when Zhanna moved to kiss her. Soft and slow and working as her slightly scaled lips moved against Anastasia’s ghostly ones. Long enough to take Anastasia’s mind off of the original use of the ring that was warmed against her arm where Zhanna held her. “Thank you,” was all she said as the kiss broke.

“You were there for me when it happened to me, of course I will do it for you.” Zhanna smiled, giving another squeeze to her lover’s bicep. “This sounds...horrible out of context, but I am glad I drowned in this pond so I could have the chance to find your ring.”

“That is...odd, yet sweet. A little like _you_.” Anastasia teased as she leaned to kiss her but then-

A light shone through her, dissipating her form, and Zhanna heard the gasp of someone who was mostly definitely human. Her eyes flashed in the light, pupils dilating wide and reflecting green and yellow, before she dived back into the pond.


End file.
